Devils and Angels
by KatieMai27
Summary: The crime-solving duo are stumped by a case, and on top of things, they receive a very suspicious package. I'm horrible at summaries...Uh, set during Great Game...R&R! Moriarty/OC, Sherlock/OC WOO!
1. Bored

_**Hello everyone! Yes, I have started a Sherlock fic thanks to **_**Lady Electricity _encouraging me to do so. Well, first things first, the plot line is a bit twisty and unpredictable, but it'll become clearer as the story goes on. I hope you enjoy! _**

JIM MORIARTY rose from his bed and walked towards the window. It was the middle of the night, and he stared out at the twinkling lights of London.

"Jim?" A soft voice called from the bed. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine, dear. Go back to sleep." Jim hushed. The woman sighed and laid her head back down on the pillow. Jim crossed his arms and drifted into deep thought. _I need to get rid of her…but how?_

* * *

><p><em>TWO DAYS EARLIER<em>

Sherlock Holmes flopped into his armchair, unfolding the newspaper and holding it out before him. He growled. _Why is the news always so boring?_ He thought to himself. John entered the room in his bathrobe.

"Morning," John said from the kitchen. He huffed and moved the various little wires and jars away from the coffee maker.

"Good morning, John. Sleep well?" Sherlock asked, not raising his eyes.

"Yeah, pretty good. Anything interesting?" John nodded towards the paper.

"No." Sherlock sighed angrily. 'There's never anything interesting. I am so bored!" Sherlock scrunched up the paper and tossed it across the room. John finished preparing his coffee and took the seat opposite him.

"Lestrade doesn't have anything?" John asked.

"No…" Sherlock rose from his armchair and stomped towards the kitchen. "You messed up my experiment!"

"Sorry, didn't know you were doing one."

"I'm always doing one. Let's go somewhere." Sherlock said abruptly. He grabbed his coat and headed down the stairs. John sighed, put down his cup of coffee and ran to quickly get dressed.

Sherlock was already sitting in the back of a cab by the time John exited the flat.

"Where are we going?" John asked taking a seat next to Sherlock.

"You'll see." Sherlock answered vaguely. The cab pulled out onto the main road.

* * *

><p><em>SOMEWHERE ON THE OTHER SIDE OF LONDON…<em>

A knock on the door snapped Jim out of his thinking. He rose from his chair and answered the door.

"Hi Jim!" The familiar face smiled.

"Bridget Saunders, to what do I owe this pleasure?" Jim motioned for her to come inside.

"You asked me to fix your router, remember?" Bridget said, tapping her messenger bag filled with various wires and computer tools. She and Jim worked in IT together.

"Right, right. This way." Jim led her towards the cupboard with all the Internet gear and she got to work immediately. Jim watched her intently. He couldn't deny that she was pretty. Her long honey hair was tied up in its usual spikey bun while she kept pushing her glasses back up her straight nose. Today she was wearing a tank top, showing off her sun tattoo on her left arm. She had three piercings on her right ear, two on the lobe and one in the cartilage. Jim was so distracted by her that he didn't hear her calling his name.

"JIM!"

"What?" He finally snapped out of his thought.

"Pass me my laptop, will you?" She asked, irritated.

"Oh, yes, of course." He fished it out of her messenger bag.

"Thank you." She began clicking away. "I really don't know why you needed my help, Jim. You could've figured this router thing out yourself."

"Yes, well, I had to think of some excuse to call you." Jim flirted. Bridget blushed, closed the laptop and stood up to face him. Jim quickly closed the distance between them and pressed his lips to hers. Bridget wrapped her arms around his neck while his hands rested on her hips, both pulling each other closer. Jim was the first to draw back. He looked into her eyes.

"I have a job for you." He said.

"Really?" Bridget asked.

"Mm-hm. It pays well..." He added in a sing-song voice.

"Haha alright. Tell me about this job." Bridget smiled. Instead of answering, Jim kissed her and led her towards the bedroom.

* * *

><p><em>OTHER SIDE OF LONDON...<em>

_"_Ouch! Sherlock!" John complained as they both squeezed in through the tiny door at the same time. "Why are we even here?"

"Mycroft texted. He wanted me to check this place out. Honestly, I don't know why..." Sherlock peered around the tiny flat. The wallpaper was peeling off the walls and the place smelled of rotten fish. The scent was so overpowering that John pulled his sleeve over his hand and pressed it to his nose.

"Why would Mycroft send us here?" John asked, his voice muffled by the sleeve.

"I already said, I don't know. It might just be a dead end in an attempt to get back at me for that scathing remark I made the other day." Sherlock crouched down on the ground inspected it.

"Oh, great."

"Aaah...what have we here?" Sherlock's gloved finger traced the outline of a door hiding under the filthy carpet. Pulling out a knife from his little kit, he cut away the carpet to reveal the door. Sherlock looked back at John who nodded, and taking a hold of the handle, yanked it open. Dust blew out causing both of them to cough. Waving the particles out of the way, Sherlock peered into the darkness.

"Thank you, Mycroft!" He cheered.

"What? What's in there?" John asked, looking over his shoulder.

_**Muahahah! Leaving it there! Tell me what you think! **_

**~PLEASE REVIEW~LIKE ME ON FACEBOOK!~**_  
><em>


	2. Out and About

_**Hello all! I sure hope you're enjoying it so far! This chapter isn't really filled with a bunch of action or anything, but the next one will! I've also got some reviews to reply to:**_

**Lady Electricity: **_HI! I know, it's a little confusing, sorry! I've already answered all your questions in person, yeesh! lol! Anyway, keep on reading! WATSON!_

___  
><em>**SummerJane'10: **_Hello! *waves* I'm glad you enjoyed it! I'll definitely try and update as soon as possible!_

**_Well, I hope you guys are liking it so far! Now, to the story:_**_  
><em>

Bridget awoke to her phone buzzing. Gently scooting out of Jim's arms, she leaned over to the bedside table and checked her messages:

_Where are you? I like called you a million times! Jasper's birthday is tomorrow, are you coming?_ The message was from her friend Jen. Sighing, she put the phone back down on the table and rolled back next to Jim. Apparently, she had woken him because he propped up on his elbow and looked down on her.

"Good morning, my dear. Sleep well?" He purred. Sighing and smiling, Bridget stretched.

"I...I don't usually do...this. I don't know why I did - I mean, we didn't even have dinner-" Bridget began rambling.

"Sh, sh, sh." Jim hushed, pressing his finger to her lips, and once she stopped talking he kissed her. "So, you and I need to discuss this job I've offered. Will you take it?"

"I don't even know what it is!" Bridget chuckled.

"Well, it requires your fabulous computer skills and good looks." He swooped down and nuzzled her neck.

"Then what exactly will I be doing?"

"Oh, just this and that."

"You're very vague." Bridget raised an eyebrow.

"I like to leave things to the imagination." He smirked. Bridget sighed out of irritation, yet she was intrigued.

* * *

><p><em>OTHER SIDE OF LONDON<em>

_"_What are those?" John asked as Sherlock looked over the papers.

"They're my brother's. I think he's trying to be sympathetic." Sherlock tapped the papers on the table to align them.

"Sympathetic? Mycroft?"

"Yes, didn't you hear me?" Sherlock stood from the table and walked over to his chair, flopping down into it. John took his usual seat across from him.

"So, these papers, what are they then?"

"Various cases that my brother hasn't gotten around to. I think he know's I'm bored and wants to make sure I don't do something stupid."

"Ah, well, that was considerate of him." John said. Sherlock grunted and rose from his chair, going to the window.

"John, where's Mrs. Hudson?" Sherlock said after a minute of silence.

"She went out for a brunch with friends, why?"

"No reason. I'm just bored." Sherlock turned from the window and began pacing.

"Well why don't you work on Mycroft's cases?"

"I've already figured them out. The secretary is cheating on his wife, the building didn't burn down because of an arsonist but because of a careless smoker, and as for the bees disappearing I honestly don't care." Sherlock said in his usual rapid pace of deduction.

"Hm." John tapped his fingers on the chair. "Well I think I"ll go out for a walk. Care to join?"

"No, you go ahead. I've got thinking to do." Sherlock turned back to the window. John nodded to himself, rose from the chair, grabbed his coat and exited the flat.

* * *

><p>Bridget twisted the faucet and warm water spilled out into the sink. Quickly running her fingers through her hair, she pulled it up into a bun and dipped her hands into the water. She splashed her face, dried it with a towel and exited the bathroom. Jim was in the kitchen brewing tea when she entered. He turned around and spotted her wearing his dress shirt. He chuckled to himself as he saw her constantly tugging the shirt down. Sighing, Bridget wandered around the flat and collected her clothes.<p>

"You know," She said coming up behind him, pulling her tank top down over her stomach. "As much as I'd like to drive to work with you today, I need to swing by my flat and change."

"Why? You look lovely, dear." Jim said, handing her a cup of steaming tea.

"Thank you, but if people see me arriving with you and wearing the same thing from yesterday, they'll talk." Bridget raised an eyebrow.

"Hm." He kissed her cheek as she passed. "Let them." His eyes twinkled.

"Speaking of rumors, I really don't see why Molly Hooper thought you were gay." Bridget took a seat at the large glass table.

"Me neither. She hangs around with that Sherlock so who knows what he's telling her." Jim sat across from her.

"Hm." Bridget nodded in agreement. The long glass table made their breakfast awkward. About an hour later, Jim agreed to take her home to change before work. Bridget picked up her bag and followed Jim out. Jim took her hand in his and they stepped out onto the busy London street. A black Jaguar was parked directly in front of them and a chauffeur awaited their arrival.

"Here," Jim pulled Bridget towards the car when she began to walk the other way. The chauffeur opened the door for her and she slid in.

"Address?" The driver asked. She told him and the car pulled out onto the road. Jim wrapped his arm around her shoulders and reaching into his pocket he pulled out a packet of gum and offered some to Bridget. She agreed and he popped a piece in her mouth.

"OH!" Bridget slapped her forehead.

"What, dear?"

"It's Jasper's birthday today!"

"Hm?" Jim was lost.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I would really love to go to work with you today, but I've gotta go to a friend's today. I'm gonna have to skip work."

"That's alright, dear. I'll skip it with you. You tired me out last night." He smiled. Bridget blushed and sunk down in her seat. Jim chuckled and kissed the top of their head. They chatted and laughed throughout the drive, and finally they arrived at her flat.

"No, please don't. Jim, you really don't have to." Bridget begged.

"No, dear, I insist." Jim said. He had offered to buy Jasper a present.

"Well then, if you _insist_." Bridget smiled. She unlocked the door to her flat and held it open for him. "Make yourself at home," She called as she ran to her closet. "I'll only be a minute!"

Jim held his hands behind his back and wandered around the flat. It was small, to be sure, but it suited her. He went into the kitchen and traced a finger over the counter. Turning round, he faced the living room. There was a door on the left that lead to what he presumed to be her bedroom and closet, another door on the right lead to the loo, and a small love seat sat up against the back wall facing a TV.

"Okay, let's go!" Bridget said, coming out of the bedroom. Her hair was properly brushed and she had changed into a leather jacket, skinny jeans and boots.

"This is a nice little place," Jim pointed out.

"Oh, thanks. I apologize for it's condition, I haven't had time to clean it."

"No, no worries. Let's get going."

"Right! Yes, yeah, let's go." Bridget grabbed her keys and they exited.

* * *

><p><em>Peck peck peck...peck peck.<em> Sherlock stared intensely at the pigeon in front of him. It stared back quizzically before continuing its scavenging. Raising his eyes only a fraction of an inch, Sherlock watched the the people in Regent's Park pass by. Five-foot-ten brunette female, a man in his late 50's with problems in his right knee, two teenagers, but no John.

"Sherlock..." A voice said behind him. Sherlock turned to face John and smiled.

"Ah, hello John."

"What are you doing here?" John crossed his arms. Sherlock furrowed his brow.

"Isn't it obvious? I'm taking up your offer and 'going out for a walk' like ordinary people." Sherlock stood.

"Alright." John sighed. "C'mon." They walked off together down the pavement.

_**WOOO! Hope you liked it! It'll get better, I promise! I just needed to kind of wrap this chapter up because otherwise it would've gone on for waaaaaaaaaay too long!**_

__**~PLEASE REVIEW!~LIKE ME ON FACEBOOK!~**


	3. Birthdays and Severed Heads Updated

_**Hello everybody! Sorry for the long update! Well, I'll just get onto reviews then, shall I?**_

**stacy: **_Hello! *waves* Well, I'm glad you're liking it so far! I hope to hear more from you! :D_

**Lady Electricity: **_Woo! Hi! Yes, I added Jasper! I thought it would be cute. Oh, and Todd in this chapter is like your brother or something I dunno. Yes, something is most definitely up Moriarty's sleeve! I also can't wait for your update either! :D_

**_HOLD IT! I've got a fanfiction to mention:_**

**_When Strangers Collide _**_by _**Lady Electricity:**_Stranger in the park, and two words haunting her... Little did she know, Jessica's world was going to get a whole lot complicated. Moriarty/OC Working on the title, suggestions needed! REVIEW!_

**_It'd be great if you guys would check it out! The author is a good friend of mine both on here and in person! _****_NOW__ ONTO THE STORY:_**

* * *

><p>"Ah! Jim!" Bridget laughed as Jim attacked her with one of the various fuzzy stuffed animals. Jim made doggie eyes and she giggled again.<p>

"What about this?" Jim said, picking up the new model of a NERF gun.

"Hm..." Bridget took the box from him and examined it. She cringed at the price. "Sorry, I haven't got enough money for that. What about this?" She picked up a small little science kit. "_Build Your Own Volcano..._" She read the title and turned it around to read the back.

"Honey," Jim said from behind her.

"Yeah?" Bridget put the box back on the shelf.

"How about this?" He held out a puzzle.

"Ooo...Interesting...He might like this..." Bridget took the box from him and examined it. The picture was of a bookshelf barely able to hold all of the various stories. Turning it round, she saw the price. Before she could speak, Jim wrapped an arm around her waist from behind and whispered in her ear.

"It's on me..." He smiled, twirling a £50 note in his hand. He kissed her cheek and she smiled. Jim took her hand and they went to the cashier.

* * *

><p>"How was the flight?" John asked after welcoming Sherlock home at Heathrow.<p>

"Dull." Sherlock snapped and waved down the nearest taxi. John sighed and followed him into the back of the car. He knew Sherlock was in one of his moods, so he didn't bother starting conversation. They arrived at 221B Baker St and John heaved Sherlock's bag up the stairs. Sherlock stomped into his room and shut the door, laying down on the bed and passing out.

"Sherlock?" John finally made it up the stairs and into the flat, but Sherlock wasn't in sight. He sighed and sat down in his chair, opened his computer and continued his blogging.

* * *

><p>"Happy birthday, Jasper!" Bridget and Jim smiled in unison. The little boy was super excited and hugged Bridget around the knees.<p>

"Here you are," Jim said handing Jasper his present. Jasper took it from him happily and unwrapped it.

"It's a puzzle." The boy pointed out.

"Yes."

"I'm not very good at puzzles..." Jasper's face dropped. Jim crouched down.

"You want to know what I do for a living?" He asked. Jasper nodded. "I create puzzles. You'll learn how to solve them, trust me. Once you understand puzzles, there's nothing in the world that can stop you."

"Okay." Jasper smiled, feeling a bit more encouraged.

"BRIDGET!" Bridget turned towards the voice. Her best friend, Jen, came rushing towards her, arms open and embraced her tightly. "Oooh I haven't seen you in forever! How are you?"

"I'm fine. Yourself?" Bridget smiled. Jen rolled her eyes.

"I am all over the place. Jasper's doing this, Todd wants to do that, you know how it is." Jen said, vaguely explaining her family life.

"Yeah..."

"So tell me, who's that hottie you're with?" Jen asked, nodding towards Jim.

"Oh, that's Jim from the hospital. We work in IT together. We, uh, I spent the night at his place and he was kind enough to offer me a ride here."

"You spent the night? Oooer missus!" Jen smiled. "Well, he's pretty damn cute. He looks like a keeper to me." She laughed. "Now come help me with the crisps." She pulled Bridget along.

* * *

><p>BANG BANG BANG! BANG!<p>

Sherlock lowered the gun and stared at the spray-paint smiley face on the wall.

"What the HELL are you doing?" John shouted, running into the flat.

"Bored..." Sherlock groaned.

"What?" John snapped.

"Bored!" Sherlock leapt up from his seat and aimed the gun at the wall again and shot.

"No!" John ducked.

"BORED!" Sherlock moved the gun to behind his back, fired, then handed the gun to John who quickly disarmed the weapon.

"I don't know what's got into the criminal classes." Sherlock said, heading over to the couch. "It's a god job I'm not one of them."

"So you take it out on the wall?" John asked from his desk.

"Oh, the wall had it coming." Sherlock inspected the smiley-face before flopping down on the sofa.

"What about that Russian case?" John shrugged his coat off.

"Belarus. Open and shut domestic murder. Not worth my time..."

"Oh, shame." John moved into the kitchen. "Anything in? I'm starving!" He called and opened the fridge. "Oh...fff!" He closed the fridge door only to open it again a moment later. "There's a head...A severed head!"

"Just tea for me, thanks." Sherlock grumbled from the sofa.

"There's a head in the fridge." John came back into the living room.

"Yes..." Sherlock nodded.

"A bloody head!"

"Where else was I supposed to put it?" Sherlock pointed out. "You don't mind, do you?"

"Well..."

"I got it from Bart's morgue. I'm measuring the coagulation of saliva after death." Sherlock explained. John face-palmed.

* * *

><p>Bridget and Jen had a wonderful time talking in the kitchen.<p>

"So, possibly gay IT guys turns out not to be gay but rather charming and dashing, and whisks you away to an expensive flat where he sleeps with you, offers you a job and buys Jasper a present." Jen repeated the new information back to Bridget.

"Pretty much, yeah."

"Hm." Jen put another plate in the sink. "So, is he good?" She smiled in an undertone.

"Oh my god he's incredible!" Bridget yelled happily, popping another crisp into her mouth. She had yelled it loud enough that Jim looked into the window from the yard. The girls both ducked down and giggled.

"His nickname should be Mr. Sex." Bridget whispered.

"Well then he's definitely a keeper. Stop eating those! They're for Jasper's lunch tomorrow!" Jen snatched the bowl of crisps out of Bridget's arms. Jim entered the kitchen.

"Hi, I'm Jen! Bridget's best friend." Jen said, marching up and holding out a hand.

"Jim. Jim Moriarty." Jim smiled slowly and shook it. He checked his phone. "So sorry, Jen, but we've got to go."

"We do?" Bridget asked.

"Yes, I made reservations for dinner at 7." Jim wrapped an arm around Bridget's waist and led her towards the front door. "It was wonderful meeting you!" He called back.

"Happy birthday, Jasper!" Bridget added and they exited the house. Jim led her quickly down the steps towards their car. "Oookay we're getting a little to manhandle-y right now." Bridget noted as Jim's arms wouldn't leave her.

"Sorry." He slid into the backseat next to her and slammed the door. "Go." He told the driver and they pulled out.

"We're not going to dinner, are we?" Bridget said after a moment of silence, noticing that the car was not headed towards town.

"No, we're not. I'm sorry, I've got some...work things to do." Jim shifted in his seat.

"Ah. I see. This 'work' doesn't happen to be your super-secret job that you won't tell me about, does it?"

"And if it does?" Jim raised an eyebrow.

"Fine by me. Just as long as you don't leave me bored."

"Of course not. I hate being bored just as much as you." Jim relaxed and leaned back into the leather seat, wrapping an arm around Bridget's shoulders.

"Good." Bridget smiled. "So...How long until we get to this secret place?"

"About two hours."

"Oh. And what will we do in these two hours to entertain ourselves?" Bridget batted her eyelashes.

"I've got an idea..." Jim smiled, leaning forward and capturing Bridget's lips in a passionate kiss. She squealed happily as he began to crawl on top of her, despite the car's bouncing and turning. The driver shot a glance at the couple through the rearview mirror and rolled his eyes. With the push of a button, a screen rose up and obscured them from his view. Once the driver relaxed a bit, he heard Bridget cry out and he sighed. Definitely _not_ wanting to hear them, the driver turned on the radio.

A while later, they pulled up at their destination. The driver tapped on the screen.

"Sir. We're here."

"Thank you!" Jim called back, sitting up and buttoning his shirt. Bridget followed, pulling hers over her head.

"Where are we?" She asked.

"Borthwick Wharf." He answered.

"Eh?" She ran her fingers through her hair. "Why?"

"I've got business to tend to." Jim checked that his collar was done up properly before exiting the car. "Now be a good girl and stay in the car for a bit, will you?" He leaned in and gave her one last kiss before slamming the door. Bridget sat in her seat awkwardly. The screen in front of her dropped and she was faced with the sunglass-ed, suited driver.

"Anything I can get you, miss?" He asked. Despite his posh appearance, his accent suggested a lower class. Bridget opened her mouth to answer no when she spotted Jim. He was confronting a sleazy looking man wearing a Hawaiian shirt.

"Uhhh..." She was in a trance watching the scene before her. The Hawaiian-shirt man led Jim up to a Mazda car, pointing to the driver's seat. Jim nodded in agreement and they continued talking.

"I'll take that as a no." The driver said, snapping Bridget out of her thoughts. The button was pressed and the screen slid up, obscuring her view. Sighing, Bridget leaned back in the leather seat. Suddenly, the door opened and Jim slid in.

"Everything go okay?" Bridget asked.

"It went perfectly." Jim smiled.

"Good."

"Now, would you care for some dinner?" Jim asked.

"Why not?" Bridget snuggled into Jim's arms and the driver pulled out onto the main road.

* * *

><p><em>THE NEXT DAY<em>

Sherlock was the first to exit the taxi, as usual, John paid the driver and ran after him. DI Lestrade greeted them.

"The car was hired yesterday morning by an Ian Monkford," He explained. "Banker of some kind. City boy. Paid in cash. He told his wife he was going away on a business trip and he never arrived." Lestrade closed the folder and watched as Sherlock peered in the passenger's seat.

"You still hanging round him?" Sally Donovan came up to John.

"Yeah, well..."

"Opposites attract, I suppose."

"No, we're not..."

"You should get yourself a hobby. Stamps maybe. Model trains. Safer." Donovan suggested before joining Lestrade in watching Sherlock.

"Before you ask, yes it's Monkford's blood." Lestrade crossed his arms. "DNA checks out."

"No body?" Sherlock rose from the car.

"Not yet." Donovan said.

"Get some samples sent to the lab." Sherlock ordered before striding off. Lestrade nodded and looked towards Donovan who glared back.

* * *

><p><em>LATER THAT NIGHT<em>

"Mm." Bridget swirled the wine glass in front of her. "This is delicious."

"Thought you'd like it." Jim smiled, pouring himself a glass. "It's sweet. Like you."

"So..." She put the glass down on the probably extremely expensive table. "This job of yours. What do you want me to do?"

"Well, tomorrow I'll send a car for you. Inside there will be a file. The driver will know where to go. Go into the restaurant, ring the service bell twice and wait for further instruction. That's it."

"That's it..." Bridget raised an eyebrow.

"For now. It's just a warm-up." Jim took a sip of his wine.

"Alright." Bridget checked her watch. "Oh, I've gotta go." She stood. "It's been really nice. Thanks so much for dinner and the wine."

Jim put his glass down and rose, walking her to the door. He took her jumper off the hook and handed it to her.

"Thanks again." She went out the door but turned back to give him a kiss on the lips. "What time tomorrow?"

"The driver will pick you up at eleven o'clock. Goodnight." He kissed her again. "Oh, and wear something sexy! You're going somewhere posh, too." He called after her. She smiled to herself and waved as she trotted down the stairs and out onto the pavement, flagging down a taxi and heading home.

_**Wooo! There you go guys! I hope you liked it! Don't worry, juicier action to come! Also, if you've noticed this is an updated version of the chapter! :D And, I'll be focusing more on Jim and Bridget's relationship rather than the story of the Great Game...**_

**~PLEASE REVIEW!~LIKE ME ON FACEBOOK!~**


	4. Lunchtime

_**Well, I won't be keeping you guys waiting any longer! Let's get going! Also, If you haven't already, go back and read the previous chapter for I have revised it! Woo! Let's get onto it! :D**_

BEEP! BEEP! Bridget's alarm went off. Groaning, she reached out a hand and shut it off. She rolled out of bed and into the bathroom. She turned on the shower faucet and checked the time. 9:50am. She quickly undressed and hopped in. A while later, she smoothed down her hair and looked at herself in the mirror. She was wearing a nice peach dress with heels. She felt awkward in it. She liked her t-shirts and jeans with faded and torn trainers. Sighing she grabbed her phone and keys and exited her small flat. The cool London breeze hit her as she closed the door. A familiar black Jaguar was already waiting for her, door open and chauffeur outside. She scurried in and the car took off. In the seat next to her sat the file. She picked it up. Just before she was about to open it, she received a text.

_Morning, gorgeous! xxJMxx _

Smiling, she texted back.

_Morning, handsome! xoxo_

_How's the drive so far? xxJMxx_

_Not bad. xoxo_

_Good good. Is the file next to you? xxJMxx_

_Yes. xoxo_

_Have you opened it? xxJMxx_

_No. xoxo_

_Good. Don't until I tell you. You should be pulling up soon. xxJMxx_

_Okay. xoxo_

Bridget tucked her phone away as the car slowed to a stop in front of a posh restaurant. The chauffeur came round and opened her door. Stepping out, she tucked the file under her arm and was escorted to the restaurant. Going to the desk, she rang the service bell twice. A tall man with a neatly trimmed mustache welcomed her.

"Welcome, miss. If you'll come with me." He offered her his arm. Looking around, Bridget hesitantly and awkwardly looped her arm with his and was escorted into the dining room. Tons of elderly posh people sat at immaculately neat tables eating tiny bits of fancy food. She was led out of the dining room and into a separate back room, like the ones reserved for private parties. Sitting at the furthest table was Jim donned in one of his many Westwood suits. He rose and greeted Bridget. He let out a low whistle.

"You clean up nice, dear. You look absolutely stunning."

"Oh, thanks." She blushed. "Here's the, uh, file." She held it out for him. He grinned and took it from her slowly. He glanced over it for a few seconds before shutting it closed.

"Please," He motioned for her to take a seat. The mustache-man pulled a chair out for her. She sat down and the mustache-man swooped in to lay a napkin across her lap. She froze when he did this. Needless to say, she was very awkward and unfamiliar in the posh community.

"What would you like, dear?" Jim asked, nodding towards the menu. One look and she cringed at the price.

"Uh..."

"Don't worry about the price. I've got it."

"You really don't have to-" She began.

"No, no, no. It's my treat, dear." Jim reassured her. Sighing, she studied the menu. The waiter eventually came and took their orders. They chatted for a bit, which was nice, until Jim's expression changed completely.

"We need to talk, dear." He said, putting the file out in front of him.

"What's wrong?" Bridget asked. Honestly, she didn't know what could be going on.

"You know," He took a sip of his drink. "Not everyone is who they seem to be. I, for one, am a perfect example. I don't work for IT at St Bart's. No, no, no, that's far too dull. I'm a consultant."

"Oh." Bridget switched the crossing of her legs. "Okay then. A consultant for who?"

"I'm a consulting criminal." He said plainly.

"Sorry, criminal? As in, bank robbers and stuff?" She asked.

"You are so cute." He smiled, but there was nothing that suggested he was actually amused. "You ordinary people never fail to entertain me. To answer your question, I do not advise lowlifes. I help organise murders." He explained. Bridget's eyes widened and she looked around nervously.

"Don't worry, darling." He chuckled. "I'm not going to hurt you. I don't like to get my hands dirty." He unbuttoned his suit and sighed. "Now let's talk about you."

"What about me?" Her tone was defensive.

"Yes...what about you?" He narrowed his eyes and studied her. "Tell me how you got the job at St Barts."

"I've always liked computers. I heard they needed someone for their IT department, so I went in and got the job. Why?"

"You had a clean background check, I presume?"

"Of course. I'm a good person." Bridget snapped.

"Really?" He scoffed. Bridget was taken aback. "You are incredible, darling. I'll give you that. I went through three guys to get this." He waved a paper from the file in the air.

"What are you talking about?"

"Your criminal records." He said, looking up at her. Bridget shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "You did a pretty good job erasing them. No ordinary person would be able to have found these. You patched up your background check nicely too."

"How the hell did you find those?" Her voice was shaky.

"We're getting off topic. Let's talk about why you were wanted by the police."

"I...I hacked, okay." She gave up. She was caught. "I didn't hurt anyone, though. I just messed with things a bit. Screwed up traffic lights, programmed Piccadilly Circus to play terrible music nonstop, you know."

"Hm." Jim smiled. "And what about the Swiss bank accounts you rewired?"

"Oh. Yeah...Those too." Bridget tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I'll make you a deal." Jim closed the file. "You work for me, and I'll offer you protection from the police. Try and mess with me, and you'll be lucky if the only thing I do is expose you to the police. Understand?"

Bridget nodded.

"Good girl." Jim smiled. The waiters approached with their food. "Oh, this looks delicious, doesn't it, dear?"

"Mm." She forced a smile.

* * *

><p>"How much blood was on that seat, would you say?" Sherlock asked Lestrade.<p>

"How much? About a pint." The DI answered.

"Not _about_," Sherlock corrected. "Exactly a pint. That was their first mistake. The blood's definitely Ian Monkford's, but it's been frozen."

"Frozen?" Lestrade looked up.

"There are clear signs. I think Ian Monkford gave a pint of his blood some time ago and that's what they spread on the seat." Sherlock tucked his hands into his pockets.

"Who did?"

"Janus Cars-" Sherlock turned towards John. "The clue's in the name."

"The god with two faces." John said.

"Exactly. They provide a very special service. If you've got any kind of problem, money troubles, bad marriage, whatever, Janus Cars will help you disappear." Sherlock explained. "Ian Monkford was up to his eyes in some kind of trouble, financial at a guess. He's a banker. Couldn't see a way out, but if he were to _vanish_, if the car he hired found abandoned with his blood all over the driver's seat..." Sherlock closed the passenger door.

"So where is he?" John asked.

"Columbia." Sherlock answered, moving away from the car.

"Columbia?" Lestrade followed.

"Mr Ewart of Janus Cars had a 20,000 Columbian peso note in his wallet, and quite a bit of change, too. He told us he hadn't been abroad recently, but when I asked him about the cars, I could see his tan line clearly. No one wears a shirt on a sunbed. That, plus his arm." Sherlock said.

"His arm?" Lestrade asked.

"He kept scratching it, obviously irritating him and bleeding. Why? Because he'd recently had a booster jab, Hep B probably. Difficult to tell, at that distance. Conclusion: he'd just come back from settling Ian Monkford into his new life in Columbia. Mrs Monkford cashes in the insurance and she splits it with Janus Cars."

"Mrs Monkford?" John asked.

"Oh yes, she's in on it too." Sherlock nodded. He turned to Lestrade. "Now go and arrest them, Inspector. That's what you do best." He turned back to John. "We need to let our friendly bomber know that he case is solved." He turned and began to walk towards the exit. "I am on FIRE!" Sherlock cheered as they exited.

* * *

><p>Jim leaned in for another kiss. Bridget allowed him to scoot closer this time. They had finished their discussion at lunch and were now headed back towards Jim's flat. He had his right arm around her shoulder and his left hand stroked her legs. Bridget had given in to him. She had to admit she always liked him, and she still did after he admitted to her that he organised people's deaths. <em>He just plans it,<em> Bridget tried to convince herself it wasn't so bad. _He doesn't actually kill them._..The car stopped and the chauffeur opened the door for them. Taking her hand, Jim helped Bridget out of the car. He wrapped an arm around her waist and they headed up to the flat. Kicking off her high heels, Bridget allowed herself to slouch and she flopped onto his bed and groaned.  
>"I don't do posh." She grumbled into the duvet. Jim chuckled and took off his jacket and hung it up. He too kicked off his shoes and climbed up onto the bed with her. He sat cross-legged by her head and moved her so that she was eventually sitting on his lap. He gently unzipped her dress and pushed it off her shoulders, allowing her to breathe.<p>

"You must be tired." He whispered. Bridget agreed with a yawn and they lay down together on the bed, both falling asleep immediately.

_**Wooo! There you have it! Let me know what you guys think! :D**_

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